Of Decades and Train Whistles
by Marek Kane
Summary: It's twelve years later, and both have been brought back into each other's lives, but does Sara want to see Grissom again?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Of Decades and Train Whistles.

A/N: This is set in the future, a few years after Sara has left Vegas, and Grissom finds her. Give it chance, that's all I ask ;)

* * *

Sara dug through the basket of mittens and hats that normally resided on the top shelf of the front coat closet, looking for a similar pair. As the bus would be there in ten minutes, an exact match would take too long to find.

"Alex!" She called, holding up two dark blue mitts in victory. Thankfully her mother in law had bought three or four pairs of the same mittens. He appeared behind her as she grabbed his jacket off the hook and she helped him into it.

"Have fun at school today, okay Boo?" Sara smiled, pulling the little fleece hat down over his soft brown curly hair. Alex recited the latest weather report back to her, and she grinned softly.

"Stop watching so much TV with your grandmother."

A small chuckle could be heard steps away in the living room and Sara walked Alex outside to the street, where the bus came only a moment later.

Rose Jaren was seventy-eight, quite virile for her age, and fond of watching the morning news with her grandson. It had become a morning ritual for them, and not one that Sara minded at all, as it gave her time to herself to get ready for work. She gathered her papers for today's court appearance and did a last minute check for anything she might have forgotten. Rose was still in the living room, though the TV was on low and Sara suspected she was reading. Her mother in law had moved in four years earlier, and though they'd had a few disagreements she was grateful that Rose was there.

She had made it just to the front door and had grabbed her briefcase when Rose called.

"Sara, some gentleman called while you were in the shower." Rose managed to catch Sara just as her hand rested on the doorknob.

"And...?"

"And you should call him back. Check the notepad by the phone," came Rose's reply, to which Sara paused, puzzled.

"Rose...we don't have a notepad by the phone."

"That's okay dear, he didn't leave his number either."

* * *

The pleasant surprise of short court proceedings put Sara in her current good mood as she walked though her front door with a fresh pizza. They didn't always have take-out, but she felt they deserved a nice treat once in a while.

Alex's bus would be there in about ten minutes, which gave her time to change into something more comfortable before setting down to dinner with her family.

She came back downstairs just as Rose and Alex were choosing a movie to watch during dinner; Alex was to choose the movie and Rose to remind him it couldn't be a train one. They had certain rules in the house, and certain times in which Alex could watch his train videos. Sara had learned the hard way that without said rules her son would watch them all day.

The opening theme for Raiders of the Lost Ark drifted into the kitchen as she split the pizza up amongst three plates, and Alex helped carry them into the living room. Rose sat happily in her recliner, quite pleased with the choice of video. She'd often told Sara just how delectable Harrison Ford was in his leather jacket and fedora.

They were only about ten minutes into the movie when the doorbell rang, which Sara rose to answer. As she left the room she teased to Alex to not touch her pizza, a small part of her wishing that one day he would tease back.

Her slippers scuffed along the hardwood floor as she reached the front foyer, opening the door and standing there slightly shocked.

"Hello, Sara." There was a few seconds of silence before Sara answered, confused between the sounds radiating from the living room and her new life, and the past standing before her.

"Gil Grissom. I figured one day you'd come walking back through my door," she retorted, managing to keep her emotions under control. Now it was his turn to look confused.

"Casablanca…?" He questioned, his eyebrow rising in a puzzled look.

"Indiana Jones." She nodded down the hallway, before opening the door wider. "Come in, sorry. I didn't expect you." Realization dawned on her. "The caller who didn't leave his number," she muttered, thinking of Rose's secretarial skills as she lead Grissom to the kitchen. "Can I get you a drink or something?"

"Coffee, please."

* * *

"Well this is certainly a surprise. What brings you to Seattle?" It had been twelve years since Sara last saw Grissom and she had plenty of questions for him, but it wasn't quite time to put him on the so-called stand just yet.

"A job offer." He replied, matter of factly, as he watched Sara set out the coffee mugs for them. It was percolating and filling the kitchen with a rich aroma. "The university would like me to come here, teach a few courses." She still moved gracefully, collecting things for their coffee and setting out a third mug, turning on the kettle.

"So this is like a recruitment trip? They show you the city, the campus…" Sara asked, wondering why on Earth the university in her city would offer Grissom a job. Seattle wasn't exactly next door to Las Vegas.

"Yeah, something like that." Grissom replied, watching a young boy enter the room.

"How do you take your coffee again?" Sara asked, remembering out of habit, but for some reason not wanting Grissom to know that she still did. Grissom informed her automatically, his eyes following Alex to the counter, where a precise amount of milk was poured into his mug before Sara returned the jug to the fridge.

He turned and left the room just as quietly as he'd entered, and Grissom's suspicions from the portraits in the hallway he'd seen passing through were confirmed. Sara had a son.

She brought their coffee to the table and sat down with him, placing some cookies on a plate between them.

"He's eight. His name is Alex," she supplied, knowing what Grissom was about to ask.

"He looks just like you." Grissom replied. "He seems to be well behaved," came the rest of the carefully construed sentence.

Sara held the warm mug up to her lips and murmured softly, "That's one way of putting it."

"Sara I didn't mean…" Grissom's flinch at her remark was almost instantaneous, and she knew he hadn't meant to insult.

"I know. Alex is autistic. He goes to a normal school here but is in a special class. They're working with him, he's been in speech therapy for five years now, but he still won't talk. All I get is parroted speech."

Sara spoke with little emotion, as though it'd been drained out of her long ago. Grissom remained still; looking out to the backyard and watching two birds scramble around to collect material for their nest.

"Does he say anything on his own?" Grissom asked, his fingers interlacing around his coffee mug.

"He'll say Mom, once in a while. But I can't get him to say anything else, like a simple 'I love you'." Sara nursed her coffee as well and looked straight ahead, seemingly watching the sun melt behind the trees in her yard. The irony was not lost on her that she'd never hear 'I love you' from the only two males still in her life that were important to her. One because he couldn't, the other for reasons she would never understand.

And once again silence passed between them. It wasn't an all-together uncomfortable silence, thought neither of them made a conscientious effort to resolve it.

"Do you want to go for a walk through the neighbourhood?" Sara asked, noting that they'd soon run out of topics.

"Sure. It's not too bad out yet."

* * *

Sara's neighbourhood was a quiet one, nestled a little north of the city. The houses were old Victorian style, some quite small while others, like Sara's, looked to be mysteriously larger. The kind where the view from the street was miss-leading to the size of the house on the inside.

They caught up on past events, lightly skimming over what had been happening with the other Vegas co-workers, though Sara had already known what was new with them from David's letters. Grissom detailed his life, a small bit, and Sara extracted from his carefully chosen words that he'd never settled down with anyone. She could tell he had questions about her though, and as they rounded the corner of her block she started her story.

Sara felt a little surrealistic telling Grissom about Michael, whom she'd fallen in love with two years after moving to Seattle and married soon after. Alexander's father, a man who lived through little slivers of traits through his son. Surrealistic perhaps because Michael was gone, and she was telling this to someone who used to have such a powerful hold over her, and her emotions.

But she told him, her voice never wavering as she recounted the joy of Alex's birth, the confusion of his diagnosis, and the shock when Michael suddenly died of a heart attack. She explained to Grissom, in few words, the changes she needed to make in herself when she was left with an autistic four year old to raise on her own. She smiled a little when she explained how having her mother in law move in with them was actually a good thing.

And when Grissom asked if she was happy, Sara smiled, knowing that she was. When she was much younger and still loved him, Sara thought it'd be torture to live without Grissom. As a small stone scuffed the side of her worn hiking boot she realized that Alex was the main man in her life now, and she was okay with that. More than okay.

There was almost a level of comfortableness between them, a steadiness from Grissom's unchanged self balancing out the major changes Sara had gone through.

"A lot has happened I guess." Grissom's voice carried an undertone of something, what Sara perceived to be concern, or maybe regret for the sadness she'd just told him about. Whatever it was, she felt she didn't really need it.

"Well, it's been over a decade, Grissom. When you're younger, it's even more noticeable."

"Has it really been that long?" Grissom asked, as a dog gave a half-hearted bark in their direction. Sara's street was small and had a friendly feel to it; children's toys were strewn about the long driveways and yards, and families could be seen sitting down to dinner through the windows.

"Twelve years, Grissom. Twelve Christmases, or one hundred and forty four months. Enough time for a new life to begin..." Sara trailed off as they turned into her drive, the only one on the street without a toy in sight. They'd had an interesting walk, and while it had lifted Sara's spirits immensely to see him again, she needed the night to herself to think these new changes over, and replace the fading memories of Grissom in her mind with these new images, of an older and slightly more experienced Grissom.

He walked her to the front door, ever the gentleman, but politely turned down her invitation inside. The house was an older one, in a modest Victorian style and the floorboards of the front porch creaked a little under his shifting feet. He looked up to her as she stood in her doorway and in her eyes he saw equality. She was no longer the CSI who once had a crush on him, who would sometimes follow him through the halls at the lab. She was his equal, or perhaps, even his better. Sara had a career, a home, and what Grissom rarely admitted to himself craving for: a family.

"How long are you in Seattle for?" She finally asked, partially out of curiosity, partially because that was the only thing she could think of to ask, even though she'd pictured this scenario countless times before.

"For another two days," came Grissom's slow reply. "I'm to go to the university to see what they have to offer, tomorrow." Sara nodded, and from inside the house a small whistle sounded, like one from a train set.

Her head tipped a little, the sound and meaning registering in her brain. Grissom shoved his hands in his pockets as the whistles continued in a steady beat.

"Alex..." Sara said with a soft sigh, offering Grissom a small smile. "I have to run by the university tomorrow though, so maybe I'll see you there."

"I look forward to that." Grissom replied, as he stepped down the porch steps towards his rental car.

She watched him go, his crooked gait still making her smile a little. Sara waved at Grissom as he pulled out of her driveway, wondering why she felt like she'd been hiding all those years, and had just been found out.

* * *

Inside the house, Rose could be heard up in Alex's room, telling him to put the trains away and go to bed. Sara walked up the stairs to see how that was going; losing the small feeling of freedom she'd had with Grissom with each step. She loved her son, but some days she needed a break away from Alex and the world of autism.

She was thankful for her mother-in-law, and didn't once regret asking her to move in. Michael had died just after Alex had been diagnosed, a time of turmoil for their little family and one in which Sara seriously questioned her ability to be a mother. Things had gotten better as mother and son had grown accustomed to each other's behaviors and routines, and Rose had been a healthy addition. Though she was slightly quirky, with a tinge of senility to her comments at times, Rose was also very good with her grandson. At the moment he was on the floor with a toy train engine in his hand, pressing the button to sound the whistle every thirty seconds or so. Rose sat beside him, slowly but firmly telling him he needed to get ready for bed.

Sara felt rather horrible because she knew that Grissom's visit was the cause for Alex's frustrations. Not only was he not used to a man being in the house, but their evening activities had been interrupted as well. Sara nodded at Rose as she passed by Alex's bedroom on her way to a nice hot bath. It would be a short one; she'd go and check on her son in about half an hour, but for now she needed time to think about the day's events. It was fine reminiscing about her time as a CSI in Vegas, and remembering the Grissom she used to know, but Sara wasn't sure that she was all that pleased to see him now.

* * *

Alex finally settled around ten-thirty, a little over an hour past his usual bedtime, but that couldn't always be helped. Sara knew that the morning would be better as their routine would resume and Alex would be off to school like always, a place he enjoyed. She passed Rose's room on the way to hers, looking in and finding her mother in law reading a book in bed. Chicken Soup for the Mother's Soul, one Sara had given her when Michael had died. She murmured goodnight, not really wanting to disturb Rose but saying it out of habit anyway.

The dark and inviting furniture in Sara's room welcomed her as she walked in, the crisp white sheets on the dark four-poster bed willing her to relax. But Sara instead headed to the roll up desk to her left, the place where she kept her important papers. Alex's birth certificate, the love letters and little notes Michael had sent her, their marriage certificate, his obituary. One little drawer also contained her past life, in Las Vegas.

Taking this box to her bed Sara opened it, the smell of the strip drifting up. It wasn't really that, but the combination of finger print ink, the heavy stock cards they used to collect the ten prints, and various other little memories in the box reminded her of the strip, the place where she had last seen Grissom. Until now.

She quickly scanned the last letter she'd received from the secondary coroner David, who'd been a good friend to her, to see if he'd mentioned Grissom wanting to visit at all, though there was nothing. No warning, which David would have given, knowing what existed between her and Grissom. What did exist, Sara corrected herself. That was the past, she had no claim to him, nor he to her. After all, twelve years had gone by and life had certainly changed them since then.

* * *

_Coffee._ Sara wasn't sure whether the smell drifting through the house to her room or the one seeping in through her window from the kitchen's window below was the one that woke her, but it had worked regardless. The brew smelled delicious, and Sara picked up the slightly subtle smell of freshly made bread as well. Rose knew how to wake the dead, as well as those who'd never really grown accustomed to working the day shift after eight years.

It was only eight in the morning, still early by Sara's standards, though a normal time for rising on a weekday. Alex's bus picked him up for school at eight forty five, and it only took him about half an hour to get ready. Nonetheless, Rose usually had him awake much earlier than that to help her with breakfast.

Sara's slippers scuffed a little on the floor as she entered her kitchen, the coffee smell much stronger and enticing. She was handed a steaming mug and a rather inquisitive look, which she softly smiled away. Rose had questions about Grissom, but they would have to wait until Alex was off to school, and Sara was more awake. She didn't object to Sara wanting to date, after all, one couldn't mourn forever and Michael had passed away four years earlier. But they had grown very close, and Rose felt she needed to approve of whom her daughter in law was interested in dating.

* * *

The university campus was bustling when Sara arrived at lunchtime, wondering why she'd even bothered to show up. It was a busy place, packed with students sauntering to the various cafeterias or walking briskly to their next class, and she was looking for a shy recluse. Out of habit she headed towards the library, and wasn't all that surprised when she found him there. He grinned up at her, holding up a book on trains that he was reading. She smiled a little back, a small peace offering before she spoke the decisions that had come to her during the night.

His face remained stoic as she spoke, as she revealed to him just how far she'd come along since she'd left Las Vegas. She didn't bother rehashing most of what she'd told him last night when they'd caught up with each other, but instead tried to make him realize just how much was at stake. Just how strong of a hold over her she'd managed to shake off.

Sara sat on the bench in the library mezzanine, watching some kids play Frisbee outside on the lawn. It was a little cold, but no harm could come from getting one last game in before winter took hold of the campus.

"Do you remember what I said to you when I left Vegas?" Sara asked, her eyes following the red Frisbee as it whisked through the air.

There was no hesitation in Grissom's answer, and something told Sara that he remembered more than just what she'd said. She wondered if his recollections of that last night were as clear as her own.

"You told me not to start the New Year with you if I couldn't finish it." Grissom stated softly, twisting his head on the slightest angle. Sara chuckled to herself, flashing him a grin.

"And a puzzled look befell your face. It's an ultimatum, Grissom. Well, it was. It doesn't really matter now, though."

Grissom half shrugged, half laughed. "I was never good with ultimatums. The sheriff was familiar with that."

Sara grinned while standing up and glancing at her watch. "My lunch break is over. I need to go back."

It wasn't a subtle subject change, but Sara neither wanted to beat Grissom over the head with the lack of action on his part, nor waste any more time on things they couldn't change. Grissom nodded as he rose, holding the book in front of him with two hands.

"I should get back to the tour. They want me as an assistant professor. Half time, but the hours are under negotiation."

Sara was glad Grissom's work habits hadn't changed much, considering how much of his personality they were. Hers had changed, but spending time with Alex was a much better alternative to living and breathing her work. She'd also had Michael and Rose to help draw her out, in the beginning.

"Good luck with the negotiations then," Sara smiled, walking with him to the stairs.

"Thanks," came Grissom's reply, along with a slight pause, a hesitation, a question unasked.

"See you, Grissom." Sara finally spoke, turning towards where her car was parked. She refused to let herself get emotional.

"Will I? See you, that is." Grissom asked, picking apart the puzzle of her words.

"That's not up to me!" She called, waving and disappearing behind a building. The ball was in his court again, like last time, and though Sara felt victorious she also felt the slightest feeling of..was it disappointment? She couldn't pinpoint the exact emotion, but she knew where it was coming from. After all these years, the only thing that had brought him back had been a job offer.

The rest of the day passed rather slowly for Sara, and for some reason she kept glancing at her cell phone suspiciously, though she knew he probably wouldn't call. She didn't even know if he had the number, anyway. The team dynamic was also different in this crime lab, and though Sara's job hadn't really changed in a long time, it was the people she worked with that refreshed it every now and again.

* * *

The drive home was relaxing though, and gave Sara time to replay the events at lunchtime. She seriously doubted he'd make a move anytime soon, and though a small part of her hoped he would, she tried to not let her hopes get up. She briefly considered what might happen if Grissom accepted the job and moved to Seattle and was allowing herself the smallest grin on her face while imagining when she pulled into her driveway, for old time's sake.

She was greeted by Rose's rump as she walked through the door, and figured if the reason that Rose was digging through the shoes in the bottom of the hall closet was for something other than dropped keys, she didn't want to know. Alex was in the kitchen, preparing the same after school snack that he ate every weekday; eight crackers, and eight slices of cheese. Eight was a favourite number of his.

For the rest of the night Sara spent time with Alex, working with him on his communication skills, feeling a small victory when Alex brought Sara the specific books she asked him for, and then pointed out a book on trains that he wanted her to read to him. Alex could do tasks as such, but for a few years Sara had wondered if he'd just learned to repeat things by habit, or if he was actually doing them because he wanted something. But today he brought her a different book than his usual one, surprising, but still in the world of trains so she figured he just wanted a small change for a while.

Whatever the reason, he'd distracted her from thinking about Grissom. She read him his book, carefully pronouncing the names and specifications of each train, because if not, Alex would fuss and make her re-read the page. Trains were a fixation of his, and she was amazed at how he'd soak up information on them.

Once Alex went to bed, Sara and Rose sat in the living room, fireplace on, sharing a tea. She normally drank coffee during the day, but found tea more relaxing during the evening. Rose, on the other hand, drank more tea per day than the entire three shifts at the lab combined. She sat in her old reclining chair; something Sara didn't exactly enjoy the looks of, but begrudgingly admitted was very comfortable.

"Do you still love him?" Rose asked honestly, stirring an extra teaspoon of sugar in her tea, which Sara pretended she didn't see.

"I don't think he ever gave me the chance to in the first place." Sara replied, remembering the crush she'd had on him, and realizing that it was, in fact, a crush. Grissom had kept his distance, and though he'd allowed her infatuation to grow, he'd been careful not to let her get too close.

Silence passed between them for a while as both considered this answer. Sara felt ridiculous to be giving Grissom this much consideration still, but she always knew he was different. Michael had had some of the same qualities, the quiet puzzle solver type, not speaking often but speaking volumes when he did. In that sense Alex was also quite similar to his dad, though the autism generally masked those little traits.

Sara finished her tea and stood, wishing Rose a good night. She wasn't going to sleep yet, but she had a warm and comfortable bed waiting for her, as well as a book to take her mind to another world for a while.

* * *

The next morning was a Friday, an easier day before the weekend, and if she remembered correctly, the last day that Grissom would be in Seattle. He hadn't phoned the night before but then it seemed rather premature to be expecting a call that soon anyway. She nodded hello to Alex at the kitchen table, who was eating his customary bowl of cheerios for breakfast. Rose was in the midst of doing laundry, and thus moving back and forth through the kitchen and down the smaller secondary staircase at the back of the house to the laundry room downstairs.

Sara poured her coffee, wondering about today's case that she had to compile evidence on before going to stand behind Alex. She mussed up his hair, something that usually annoyed him a little but at least got her a reaction. That's when her eyes caught something out on the back porch, slightly unusual considering not many visitors used it.

She opened the kitchen door and shivered slightly at the cold morning air. It was quite bright out already, but the wind carried a bitter touch within. The sun revealed a small package on her porch, just a little box. Sara was intrigued, but it was early in the morning and she was also wary of practical jokers. She needn't have worried though, because the writing on the small note was instantly recognizable. "Accepted the position, see you in the New Year." No name, but Grissom didn't need to sign it anyway. Inside the box was a small toy train engine, for Alex.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Of Decades and Train Whistles

A/N: I originally intended this to be a one chapter only story, but then some one gave me the inspiration for a few more chapters. They shall be posted faster than the wait time for this on.

* * *

Sara sat at the kitchen table with papers scattered about her, working on her bills and trying not to brood over the latest notice she'd received from the city. Seattle was opening a new centre for autism, and through this centre also came a new class, tied in with the school near it. Though Alex wasn't as withdrawn as he used to be; two years of extensive one on one therapy had assisted with that, Sara knew that this class would be the extra support that Alex would flourish with. She hoped, anyway.

It was a mid February evening, snow still littered the ground, and by this time it had become litter because it had mixed with dirt and road slush long ago. Her mug of hot chocolate had long grown cold and Sara rose to put on the kettle for more. She hugged her warm sweater to herself, cursing the bad insulation in the old home. The last paycheque had been spent on living expenses, a tiny bit into savings, and the rest to pay for the next month of therapy for Alex.

He was currently sitting on the floor under the kitchen table, where he'd set up a small train track and was oblivious to Sara's presence. Maybe next year there'd be more money to fix up the house some more.

She gave Alex his ten-minute warning and spent that time putting together her schedule for the next day, penciling in his various appointments. She was also supposed to meet up with Grissom at some point this week; he'd finally moved and was getting settled in. Sara was hesitant over this, not wanting to let him just jump right back into her life like old times. Fortunately, Grissom appeared to be a little wary of insta-friendship too.

* * *

Tuesdays were spent working in the kitchen and partially outdoors for Rose, who enjoyed gardening in the summer but worked mainly to keep the front path clear for everyone in the winter. She thus felt a sense of pride and accomplishment when the doorbell had rung not fifteen minutes after coming inside, justification for her constant battle with the snow. The gentleman behind the door, however, left Rose a little taken aback.

"Sara works day shifts now, she won't be home till after five," she softly told Grissom, inviting him in for a coffee. It was unnecessary, but she never had visitors during the day and she was curious about him.

"That's alright, I have a few questions for you, actually, if that's okay," he asked sincerely, not missing the pondering look on Rose's face.

"About Alex…" Grissom paused as Rose served him and offered a small plate of cookies. "I'd like to...well, I'd like to perhaps see if I could spend some time with him, getting to know him. But more importantly, letting him get to know myself."

Nothing was said as Rose thought it over; wondering why he'd come to her and not just asked Sara herself. Perhaps he was afraid to. He wanted to spend time with Alex, but he was afraid to fail in front of Sara, afraid that he would do something stupid with Alex, and she'd turn him away. But his honesty and initiative impressed Rose, and she felt it only right to give him a chance.

"Okay. Lets start out at the park, because Alex enjoys the quiet there and it's neutral territory."

Grissom smiled, glad that Rose had accepted his offer. Back in the fall, when he'd first found Sara, she had caustiously decided to give him another chance to re-enter into her life. Only this time it wasn't just Sara, he would also be entering into the lives of Alex and Rose. For some reason he figured that getting to know her son and mother in law would be an easier task than to reacquaint himself with Sara.

* * *

Supper that night was spaghetti, which Alex usually made a mess of, but Sara had been craving it. It was just simple spaghetti, and Alexander's job was to help with the salad. This was a task he usually did with Rose, however she was out playing euchre with her friends and so he would have to do it on his own. When Sara turned her head to ask him to help he was still sat at the kitchen table, eyes pouring over subway routes from the 1960's, maps he'd gotten from the library. She only needed to ask twice before he carefully put his maps away in a neat pile on the small desk that sat by the back door. She'd only seen such meticulous dedication in Grissom before – not even Michael had been that nitpicky. Alex wasn't perfect, but when he did put something away, it was put exactly back where it belonged.

While she was watching him put his maps away, the soft but steady popping noises the spaghetti sauce made as it boiled brought a form of comfort to her ears. The sauce wasn't homemade, it was only from a can, but had been mixed with chopped vegetables and Sara's own blend of spices, a mixture that experience blended with creativity to make had made. She enjoyed her kitchen, and though she wasn't a grandiose cook in any sense of the word the kitchen still felt homey and well used to her. The walls were a Bordeaux red, a rich wine colour that was comfortably celebratory to her, and the old wood stove they had by the brick wall in the corner was functioning and gave a historic and warm touch. She'd taught Alex to roast marshmallows in it during the winter, though he didn't take the same joy in it that most other children did. At least not that she'd been able to see.

The ringing phone brought Sara out of her semi-trance, back to reality and an almost over boiling pot of pasta noodles. She stuttered hello into the portable handset, drawing back a sharp breath as an errant droplet of scalding water jumped past the stirring ladle and landed on her hand. Grissom's voice on the other end surprised her, and while his timing was a little inconvenient it was nice to hear from him.

She leisurely served the pasta to the waiting plates and listened as Grissom described the guest lecture series currently being given at the university, considering accepting his offer to attend when Alexander's voice started to overpower Grissom's, in a steady rhythm.

"Mum mum mum mum mum."

He stood behind her, empty handed and with chocolate brown eyes focusing on something beyond her left shoulder as she turned. She shook her head at him and shrugged her shoulders, unsure of why he was calling her.

"Do you have Friday off? The lecture on forensic biology looks quite interesting. Bring back old times." Grissom continued.

Silence came from Sara's end of the phone as she scanned the room quickly, but couldn't think of anything off hand that was unusual.

'Sara?"

"Mum mum mum mum mum." Alex interjected, looking slightly lost and out of place.

"Alex, go get your pecs cards, Mom doesn't know what you want. And Griss, hold on."

She watched as Alex turned round and went for his stack of cards, choosing the blue book, which was the family one and the one he had on him at all times. Alex found the card with Rose's picture on it and handed it to Sara, who had taken a deep breath and all the food off of the stove. Most days she wished she had more hands to do things. Sara bit her lip, and instead of instinctively answering where Rose was, she asked Alex to give her another card, telling her what he wanted to know about his grandmother.

The 'where' card was handed to her, and that was good enough for today. On a normal day Sara would make Alex repeat his question verbally with her, but tonight hunger had taken over, and somewhere Grissom was waiting patiently on the phone.

Shaking her head, Sara told Alex that his grandmother was out and that he'd have to make the salad himself. This turned out to require her starting the salad, and from there Alex took over, the familiarity of the routine guiding him. She also continued her conversation with Grissom, who'd only heard part of what she'd said to her son and was wondering why she was talking about pectoral muscles.

"I beg your…oh. Pecs, Grissom. Pictoral Exchange Communication System, or something like that. I'm lucky if I can remember the short form. They're picture cards, and when Alex needs to express something, he's supposed to bring me the card with that corresponding word or picture on them." Steaming plates of pasta were placed at the table, watched carefully by Alex. Sara pointed at the salad bowl and the task was resumed and finished.

"Do they work?" inquired Grissom, ever the student.

"Sometimes. But you can't make cards for everything." she replied, sounding rather distant. Alex came to the table and sat across from her, waiting for his mother to sit down. He'd been taught not to start eating until everyone was at the table, and Sara used this as her cue to say goodbye to Grissom. They'd be meeting up in a couple of days anyway, for a lecture that she'd already forgotten the topic of. He let her go with a rather cheerful goodbye himself, not mentioning that the next day he'd be meeting up with Alex and Rose at the park.


	3. Chapter 3

Of Decades and Train Whistles

A/N: It does snow in Seattle, but not as much as I'd insinuated in the last chapter. Thank you for pointing that out, I need to research better. ;-)

* * *

Grissom met up with Alex and Rose in the morning at the park, arriving early and thus was sitting on an available bench and starting to read the next chapter of a book on autism he'd found in a bookstore near his new home. Alexander's class was on a field trip to a local swimming pool, but as he got ear infections very easily Rose had taken him out of school for the morning and told Grissom that today would be a good day to meet up. The book he'd found was actually for parents raising autistic children, but it was the best he could find at that store. Besides, it also gave him an insight into what Sara was facing as a parent, rather than a book solely on the traits of autism.

Glancing up over the edge of the pages, Grissom saw them approaching. Alex walked carefully, each step taken almost with trepidation, and partially up on his tiptoes. He was dressed in jeans, brown hiking books, a blue knit sweater and an unbuttoned tan corduroy jacket. He looked rugged, dressed for the outdoors. However, his clothes still appeared almost brand new because Alex didn't play rough with other boys his age. He didn't play with them at all.

Rose walked slowly beside Alex, partially watching him, partially looking for Grissom. When she spotted him Alex was lead in his direction, though there wasn't any rush. He put the book away and smiled at them, feeling a little nervous and hating himself for it. He also felt a little guilty for not telling Sara what he was doing.

"Hi…" Grissom spoke softly, rising to greet Rose. She flashed a smile back at him, and nodded that he could keep his seat. She sat beside him on the bench with a sigh and another smile.

"Hello. What would you like Alex to know you as?" Rose plunked Alex's backpack on the ground next to the bench, guiding him with a soft touch on his wrist to face them.

Grissom's lips puckered in the slightest grin as he recalled that of all the days they'd worked together, Sara had never called him by his first name. Why break the pattern now?

"My last name is fine," he replied, with a grin and a small turn of his head.

"Sure. Alex, this is Grissom. Look at him, please." Grissom sat still with a little bit of fear, wondering if he would even register with Alex. But the boy did look in his direction, and while he never made eye contact Rose was successful in getting him to repeat 'hi.' After that however, Grissom was completely ignored. Rose explained that this wasn't really intentional, that because Grissom was just a random stranger to Alex he wasn't really all that inclined to get to know him. Over time though, Alexander would become accustomed to Grissom's presence, he hadn't expected much else in the first place; after all, instant bonding only happened in the movies.

But for the moment, Alex had been quite content to play with a toy train engine by himself, while they talked. It had been a nice conversation, though Grissom had been careful with what he said because although Rose seemed nice and had an air of innocence about her, she was also a tad nosy. He had an inkling that Sara had informed Rose of their life in Las Vegas, of working together and… other things.

The park excursion was ended abruptly at eleven thirty am, when Alex handed his train to Rose and recited the daily specials he'd seen written on a sign in a restaurant window at the entrance of the park. It was apparently lunchtime.

* * *

Grissom's status as assistant professor at the university gave he and Sara passes to all of the guest lectures being given over the weekend, and also to the nice refreshments reserved for faculty members, not just the bland cookies put out for the general public. It was these they snacked on during the midday break between lectures; warm deli sandwiches while staring out the window at the campus that was struggling to shake winter's dreariness and welcome spring. It would soon be March, and hopefully the weather would start kicking into gear and come to life.

Friendly chatting passed between them, soft questions to inquire about the time they'd not been in touch. Grissom didn't feel like talking much about his twelve years, a shade of embarrassment mixed with a little disappointment accurately described how he felt about them. Even though he was happy he'd spent his time working at a job he enjoyed, he felt somewhat jealous upon hearing Sara's fond recollections of being married, and how she didn't regret at all becoming a mother. However, he did like hearing about how she was, and what her life was like, so although he was caught in a mental catch-22, he kept listening.

They'd found a quiet hallway not far from the lecture theatre to enjoy their lunch, as it seemed that Friday's attendance levels were a bit lower than the rest of the week. Sara was rather animated that day, partially spurned on by frustration as she narrated to him what she was currently annoyed with. He'd read about the struggles parents of autistic children faced in getting the proper education and therapy for their kids, but to hear about it first hand seemed all that more realistic.

"I think he'd love this class. I want him to be in it, too. The one he's in now is a good one; I fought for two years to get him in there. But this new one is solely for kids with autism. Imagine the growth, the environment he'd be in."

Sara's veggie sub sat half eaten in the paper plate beside her, kept warm by hot air from the heater behind their bench. Her hands moved slightly through the air as she talked, not as obnoxiously as some people but animated enough to show she was into the conversation. And Grissom admired her for that. Admiration for her stamina and stubbornness to get her son what she knew was best for him.

He grinned a little, thinking of how glad he was this trait hadn't changed in her. She saw the grin though, and called him on it, smiling herself.

"What? Is something funny?"

"Was Alexander's dad this stubborn about challenging the city to get his kid the best?" His teasing was very slight, like they used to do when they first started working together, and Sara chuckled.

"So I can be a little pushy," she agreed, smiling back and then pondering. "It doesn't always get me what I want though."

"It got you here. A good job, a nice family, a great son." Grissom supplied, still missing the point like he used to all those years ago.

Sara didn't reply, but instead sat quietly and looked out the window for a moment.

"You know, I was so glad when we found out Alexander was a boy. I didn't know why for a long time, even after he was born. I just remembered feeling really glad, and relieved."

Grissom took another small bite of his sub, spilling a little bit of shredded lettuce but catching it quickly. "Because Michael wanted a boy?"

"No..." Sara mused, "Michael was ecstatic. Alex could have been born with three arms and he would have been just as happy. I think it was because of the relationship I had with my mother, growing up in a not-so-stable house and well, the other issues. I didn't want that. But now I wonder if Alex had been a girl, if he would have been okay." Draining her juice, she placed the empty bottle down onto the old wooden bench, next to her plate.

"Autism is four times more likely in boys than in girls," Grissom offered, a random fact he'd read in an article on autism a few weeks earlier.

"That's right," Sara agreed, nodding her head slowly. "Turns out it didn't matter what sex he was. No one can be completely problem free."

* * *

March slowly came around to Seattle and on the days Grissom had off from teaching he spent part of his time with Alex and Rose. He felt a little guilty in not telling Sara, but every time he wanted to mention it, she'd either change the subject or he found he just couldn't do it. It frustrated him, because he felt it wasn't really true to his personality to be nervous about something like that.

Rose sat at the kitchen table updating the family photo albums as Grissom watched, nursing a coffee and occasionally glancing at Alex, who was also sitting at the table with them and running a toy train engine back and forth in a seemingly perfect straight line. Grissom doubted he'd been paying much attention to their conversation, but he hoped Alex wouldn't repeat to Sara later anything that had been said.

Not that anything was criminal, but Rose had been questioning Grissom's motives with Sara since he'd moved to Seattle, and Alex had a talent for repeating juicy tidbits of conversation only.

Alex seemed to have lost interest in the train engine however, after studying it intently for a while. He walked to the single leather chair Sara had placed in an unused corner of the oddly shaped kitchen and sat down, not relaxing himself into it at all. Rose managed to organize and keep an eye on Alexander at the same time, a feat that Grissom admired. His own attention was usually too focused to be able to multitask like that.

"Zoom zoom zoom."

Grissom's thought disappeared as he spun to face Alex with a quizzical look.

"That's functional echolalia, Grissom. Like sometimes when he's hungry he'll sing the commercial tune of a restaurant. It's basic echoing, but functional."

"And this is the song of the Mazda commercial…" Grissom pondered aloud, clueing in a little. "So that means he wants to go for a car ride?"

"Mmm, not always. A car ride, to play with toy cars, to do something fast. Use your imagination, Alex does." Rose glanced amused at Grissom's facial expression, not willing to just offer up the answer. If he wanted to get to know Alex, he had to start thinking like Alex did.

"Zoom zoom zoom."

Grissom wasn't used to live puzzles.


	4. Chapter 4

Of Decades and Train Whistles.

A/N: There is no train station in Seattle that I could find, now or a few years/decades back, but just humour me and pretend there is ;-)

* * *

Sara enjoyed the way her house looked in May, the flowers she managed to coax back to life every year in her garden accentuated the old house wonderfully, and it was pleasant to sit on the porch. The kids on her street would run about, eager for the approaching summer, and while she felt slightly saddened that Alex just wasn't like other kids that way, she still liked to relax in the evenings out there. He never ran, and the few times she'd ever seen him run was awkwardly after being spooked. She had reason to be happy this night, however, as she'd received the letter she had been hoping for. Alex would start school in the new class the following September.

She wanted to go out and celebrate with someone, but Sara didn't know with whom. The few friends she had here all had busy families, and while they would be happy for her, they didn't understand the autistic world enough to realize why she was so proud. After a few moments of thinking though, Sara decided to go back inside and just spend the night quietly, relaxation time to herself. She realized that the only person she wanted to celebrate with right now was Michael, who had been just as involved with Alex as she was. His birthday was the next day, and he'd been on her mind a lot more lately. Grissom had started to visit her on a regular basis, and while she didn't mind that, she still had to sort out her feelings. It had only been four years; she still loved Michael just as much as the day she'd married him.

* * *

It turned out that the night of rest proved to be useful to Sara for the next day a seemingly foul mood encased the house. Rose muttered on about allergies, Alex threw temper tantrums that Sara couldn't figure out the reason behind, and to top it all off, she found out that Grissom had been visiting Alex and Rose behind her back, for almost two months. She'd taken the afternoon off of work so that the three of them could pay their respects at Michael's grave, and been extremely puzzled and curious as to why she parked in her driveway behind Grissom's car. That had turned into anger upon hearing the ongoing conversation as she walked through the door.

Rose had been in the middle of telling Grissom that their bonding session for the day needed to be cut short when Sara had walked in, bewildered and her brain working fast to try and figure out the reason Grissom was there. He'd explained that he just wanted to get to know Alex and let Alex become comfortable with him, but in her annoyance at being lied to she'd just asked him to leave. She was careful not to direct any frustrations at Alex, who seemed to be bothered enough by the tension in the air. He stood at the window, looking outside and murmuring, hands fluttering a little by his side. She'd asked him to go upstairs but Alex was either ignoring her or hadn't heard Sara, and she didn't feel like pushing the issue.

The problem was, Sara didn't honestly know how she felt. A part of her felt rather giddy that Grissom cared enough to want to get to know her son, and let Alex know him. Another part of her was unsure of why he'd want to hide it. Grissom was a scholar, and though he didn't normally just announce what he was up to, this seemed a little secretive, even by his standards.

Sara calmed down a little, taking Alex upstairs to help him change into nicer clothes. She liked Alex's room; it was done in dark colours with light accents, and was usually kept tidy. On the wall was a nice large family photo, mixed in with framed posters of trains. As they picked out a nice outfit Rose walked into the room, ready to go, and seemingly apologetic. Alex murmured the news broadcast he'd heard that morning as Sara buttoned up his dress shirt, and Rose spoke to her in a soft voice.

"Why are you so against Grissom getting close to Alex?"

Sara fixed Alexander's collar and tousled his hair up a little.

"I'm not. I didn't appreciate the secrecy behind his actions. I still don't." She rose to her feet and smiled at her son, selfishly proud that he had her curly hair. She watched as he pointed up to his bookcase and listened to Rose, who suggested that Grissom wanted to be involved with Sara's life and the one person most important to her, but was intimidated to start from scratch in front of her.

"Grissom, intimidated? I don't think so. That's not him." she retorted, picking Alex up so he could reach a train he wanted on the shelf. "And people don't change that quickly."

"Maybe not," Rose agreed, watching Alex grab a black and green train engine. "But situations do. And people's positions in them."

Sara considered this answer as she plunked Alex back down.

"Give him a chance, Sara. He knows the theories behind life, but not the practice. And he is trying."

* * *

The grass had been cut recently and the smell still lingered a little in the air, not an all-together unpleasant scent. They passed row upon row of neatly kept markers until they found the one engraved with the name Michael Jaren. Rose came more often to visit than Sara did, but Sara still had a hard time coming to the cemetery.

While Rose prayed somewhere behind her, Sara held Alexander's hand softly, whispering the name on the tombstone under her breath. He stood beside her solemnly, holding a tulip. Sara leaned down, guiding his hand to put the flower in front of the grave. "Beloved daddy to Alexander," she finished, the engraving blurry under the tears forming in her eyes. They went every year on Michael's birthday; time to reflect back, and to give Alex a physical memory of where his dad was, where he could find him. Sara hated the fact that it was at a cemetery, but she couldn't stop what had happened.

What concerned her more was whether Alex remembered his father at all, or if this yearly tradition seemed to just be another habit to him. She'd shown him videos, pictures of the two of them together, tried to give Alex the connection between him and Michael. She supposed she could just ask him, but Sara was almost afraid to find out. She certainly didn't blame Alex, but the prospect of him not knowing was saddening. And now that Grissom came to visit more often, she felt it more urgent to strengthen Alexander's memory of his dad.

All was quiet when they drove home, Rose riding peacefully in the back as Alex sat beside Sara. While they were stopped at a stoplight she turned and randomly blurted out her question to him.

"Alex, where's daddy?" As expected, he didn't answer. Instead, she was a little mystified as Alex started digging through her purse, as that was not one of his normal habits. Her concern was alleviated however, as he pulled out her wallet, and opened it to the pictures. Alex knew who his father was, and that helped Sara feel more okay with Grissom. She may have loved him in a past life, but she didn't want him interfering now and replacing Michael. It wasn't fair to Alex. However, his recognition of his dad, after four years of not seeing him, comforted Sara and let her feel more okay with having Grissom over.

* * *

Sara called him a day or so later to let him know that she was no longer annoyed. A male role model would be helpful to Alexander, and in the end, he only meant well. She okayed a visit again, even though she would be at work, because if he was willing to make the effort Sara decided that she'd let him.

He'd come from some conference at the university, had even told Rose what it was about, but since it didn't interest her whatsoever she'd promptly forgotten his explanation. Grissom played cards with Alex as Rose read a trashy romance novel from the library, from a series she was secretly addicted to. Alex kept getting distracted from the game though, drawn to the prism shininess of Grissom's nametag that he'd left pinned on his shirt from the conference.

His name was written clearly in block letters, and so Grissom pointed to it and said his name. Alex got down from the chair and moved a little bit closer.

"Alex-Ander" he announced, standing still.

"Grissom," came the even reply as Griss nodded toward his nametag. Alex still remained motionless, so Grissom repeated himself, underlining his name with his finger.

Alex moved closer to him, never making eye contact but mimicking Grissom and tracing the nametag, while whispering. He then walked over to the bookcase filled with Sara and Rose's books at the top, and Alex's on the bottom. Scanning with his eyes, Alex chose the exact book of maps he wanted of train routes, and flipped though the pages till he found the correct one. Pointing to the name of a station, he repeated slowly, "Griss-om."

From her chair in the corner of the room Rose muttered under her breath, "Houston, we have acknowledgement"


	5. Chapter 5

Of Decades and Train Whistles.

A/N: There's a bit of a joke in this chapter ;)

* * *

Sara didn't think of herself as an avid reader, she didn't actively seek out new books to read each week, but she did enjoy reading once in a while. This was one of those nights, a warm Friday in early June. Alex was at the store with Rose, helping her pick out new clothes, and it was finally nice enough to sit outside. Thus she found herself becoming lost in her reading, not noticing that the sounds of the night were fading beyond the story that was coming alive in her mind.

"STEEELLLLAAAAH!"

At the sound of Grissom's bellow Sara bolted up in her chair, the book flying upwards and in the general direction of the grinning man behind her. She whirled around to glare at him, cursing not so quietly.

"What is wrong with you?" Sara sputtered, shirt wet from her drink that had spilled.

"That's a good play." Grissom retorted, eyeing the copy of _A Streetcar Named Desire_ that now lay haphazardly on the porch floor. "And I brought hamburgers."

Sara stared at him, puzzled and trying to make sense of A and B together.

"To grill." Grissom offered, nodding to the barbeque.

"Right." Sara muttered, standing up and wiping droplets of spilled water off her shirt. Thinking that Rose had invited him, Sara walked inside the kitchen, offering Grissom a drink. They chatted lightly about their workdays as Grissom fired up the barbeque, setting the ham and veggie burgers precisely how he wanted them on the grill. He asked what they were doing for the summer, and was met with a sigh.

"I don't know. I have to find something for Alex to do, which I've somewhat been putting off. He doesn't like unscheduled days. He'll get bored, antsy, and then harder to be around."

"What did he do last summer?" Grissom inquired, testing the meat with a meat thermometer to be certain.

"Went to a forensic anthropology day camp." Sara grinned sheepishly before setting the little patio table on the porch.

"Well, the university has an engineering day camp for kids, Alex might enjoy that given his love for trains."

"You're right." Sara pondered, tapping the handle of a fork on the wooden table. "He'd probably love that. But I bet the camp is already booked. There's only two weeks left till summer."

"Yes, but I'm faculty. I'm sure I can find him a spot." Sara stopped and stared at Grissom, noticing his befuddled look, before bursting out laughing.

"Pulling rank over a bunch of eight year olds, at a summer camp? My, have you ever changed, Grissom."

He blushed and stuttered, flipping the burgers onto the waiting hamburger buns. "I'm not." Turning off the barbeque he shrugged. "At least it's for a good cause."

After he'd sat down, Sara said in a more serious tone: "If you don't mind checking for an empty spot, I'd appreciate that."

"Sure" Grissom agreed, as ketchup sputtered out of the bottle, and onto his hamburger. Sara covered her veggie burger with condiments, and started chewing thoughtfully, forming questions in her mind.

Rose came home to find them still out on the porch, arguing over how Sara was working a case. As Alex went out to give his mother fliers from the mall that he'd collected, Rose was corrected. They were merely 'discussing' the case.

* * *

"Hello?" Sara winced as she held the cell phone near her ear, the static cackling. Grissom moved a few feet away from the machinery causing the interference, and their phones returned to normal.

"Sara, what's your last name?"

Silence overcame her as she wondered if that's what he'd actually asked.

"What?"

His reply came with some urgency and exasperation, as if she should have already been in the same mindset as he.

"Your last name. I need it to register Alex, but I don't know what Michael's last name was."

"It was Jaren," she answered, shaking her head though he couldn't see her. "But Alexander's last name is Sidle."

Her beeper went off with an 'urgency' code, and Sara told Grissom she needed to go. Her last words were another answer, that Alex would have a worker with him, and she clicked the phone shut as she walked into the conference room at work. Sitting down to wait for the updates, she found herself wishing it was Grissom who was leading the conversation, and not her current supervisor.

* * *

Because Sara was stuck giving depositions in court, and Rose was at the hospital getting some tests done, Grissom was the one to take Alex to camp on his first day. He'd never spent time alone with Alex outside of the house, but he was fairly confident there would be no problems. Not completely sure, but still confident. When he arrived at Sara's house that morning he was very relieved to hear Alex humming and clicking his tongue while he played with his trains. Generally, that meant a good day.

Grissom had spent the last two days with him and Sara, taking him to the camp and showing him the rooms, driving them in his car instead of Sara's. It was the weekend before camp started, and the staff had willingly given Grissom the keys to the room. They wanted to make Alex's time at camp easy and fun for him as well. This gave Sara time to talk with Grissom without Rose around, though she wasn't really sure of what she wanted to say. He came over three or four times a week, usually staying for at least one meal. And years ago, she couldn't even have gotten him to say yes to just one dinner. So she'd just kept the talk to generalities, and at the end of their visit Alex seemed to be acquainted with the camp rooms. This helped her feel more relaxed as Alex headed off to camp with Grissom, in his little khaki shorts and navy ball cap to match his polo shirt. That's one thing she enjoyed, Alex let her dress him in whatever she wanted, so long as she took the labels off the clothing. The texture of them bothered him.

Grissom's lunch break came early and so he wandered down to the camp area, finding Alex and his worker going to get their lunches as well. Most of the other kids were chattering and playing, but when Alex saw Grissom he walked towards him and hooked the top part of his fingers into Grissom's jeans pocket. Sara had been doing that with him, while out in public, to make sure that Alex was always close by. He told the worker to take a little break for lunch and brought Alex back to his office. He figured Alex might enjoy the quiet, and for some reason he felt rather possessive. He didn't want Alex to be on campus, and not with him.

Lunch was pleasant; Alexander re-inspected every inch of Grissom's office, and left in a happy mood to go back to camp. As they walked down the hallway to go back to the other building, Grissom's co-worker came around the corner. She watched Grissom speak to Alex and point out things on posters tacked to the wall, and noted that Alex would carefully repeat what Grissom said.

"Hello," Grissom replied, to her greeting.

"Gil Grissom, you're too private!" she admonished, in a light joking tone that he wasn't fond of. "You never told me you have a son."

"I don't share my private life," Grissom started, about to comment that the curly haired boy who looked like him wasn't his son when Alex interrupted.

"Whoooooosh."

"What's that?" the woman asked, her confused tone not matching the forced smile on her face as she leaned down towards Alex.

"Whoooooosh."

"He needs to use the washroom before returning back to camp, if you'll excuse us," Grissom said politely.

"Sure! I'll see you later, young man. I have some inside info on your father I can share."

Grissom winced and Alex stared blankly as she walked off towards her office. Grissom tried not to hate people, but her gossipy nature irritated him. He hadn't even bothered learning her name.

* * *

Sara was glad that Alex survived his first week at camp and hadn't had any tantrums. He also seemed to enjoy his daily break as well, as he'd shown Sara his two pecs cards a few times, the one with Grissom's picture on it, and the one with the word 'lunch' written on it. She loved seeing Alex so happy. Sara was up in her room, changing out of her work clothes, looking up at the family pictures on the wall and noting that Alex was generally a happy kid. But quiet, she puzzled. Too quiet, as he was usually humming or making noise with his trains. She headed off to investigate, checking his room first before going downstairs.

"Alexander Griffin Sidle. What are you doing?"

Sara was offered a half hum with a grin, the reaction Alex usually gave when he knew he was into something he shouldn't be. It melted her heart every time, though she still managed to admonish him. Slightly. Alex's hum got louder as she hugged him from behind, pulling his hand out of the sugar. In the kitchen pantry there were two wooden containers of a fairly large size in which Sara kept her sugar and flour. Each also had a little shovel, for filling the small container of sugar for tea or for measuring. Alex seemed to love shoveling the sugar, watching it slowly pour out of the trowel, dumping it back into its original box. This wouldn't bother Sara so much if it was sand, but food was food, and eventually he'd spill it.

"Come on. We're going to Grissom's soon and you can help me make dessert." Sara hugged him a few seconds longer, before he wriggled out, still grinning and humming.

"Griss-om," Alex said clearly, eyeing the sugar box again.

"Out!' she pointed away from the pantry, locking the doors with the childproof lock. Sara wasn't mad; his persistence rather amused her. She had a theory that he knew how to open the childproof locks anyway, but that he just didn't bother most of the time.


	6. Chapter 6

Of Decades and Train Whistles

A/N: The inside joke from last chapter was the 'Stella!' William Petersen played Stanley Kowalski in _A Streetcar Named Desire_ at the Stratford Festival and yes, I am a theatre nerd.

* * *

Grissom sat in his office on the warm Friday afternoon, flipping through one of the online journal databases provided by the university when his supervisor walked in. The supervisor needed a lift to the train station it appeared, and since Grissom was the only one in office that day he'd been chosen. Since he now usually dropped Alex home after camp, they picked him up first and then headed off.

Alex sat in the front seat of Grissom's car, as per usual, but seemed to become alert when he noticed that they were not taking the normal route home. His supervisor sat behind Alex, revising his paperwork and checking for tickets, not paying much attention to the front seat passengers. However, both he and Grissom snapped to attention when Alex hooted. They'd just pulled into the train station parking lot and from his seat Alex could see the train. His hands fluttered against his lap, and he was making small whooping noises.

Grissom had seen Alex like this a few times, usually when he got excited about something. After asking if Alex was okay, the supervisor gathered his things and thanked Grissom, getting out to grab his bag from the trunk. Alex seemed to pay no attention to the door opening, though at the sound of the train whistle he hooted again and started clapping randomly. The supervisor waved goodbye, leaving Grissom more than a little worried with Alex. His stomach was unsettled, the feeling that this was a bad idea having crept into it with Alexander's first yell. He started humming though, a hum mixed in with some laughter, which calmed Grissom a little. This was more familiar territory, and though Alex seemed to be very restless, he didn't seem to be escalating any further.

Grissom reached into the little bucket under the stereo part of the car's dashboard, looking for the little train engine of Alex's that he knew was there, when he heard a clicking noise close to his ear. As Grissom instantly recognized the noise, something Rose had told him when he'd first met Alex ran through his mind.

_When Alex wants something, he can move **very** fast._

Alexander's door flew open as he left the car, closely followed by a panicky Grissom. Grissom had the advantage of being slightly familiar with the layout of the train station, though there was no predicting what Alex would do, nor where he'd go. This didn't give Grissom any confidence though, and he felt his heart race as Alex headed towards the station doors. Unfortunately, a Friday afternoon in the summer meant a packed station, though Alex seemed to move pretty quickly through the crowds. Grissom followed as fast as he could, his eyes never losing sight of Alex, whose hands were still fluttering in excitement and frustration that he couldn't get to the train. Grissom's mind raced twice as fast as his feet carried him, trying to figure out what he'd do if Alex got onto the platform, how he'd explain to Sara if Alex got hurt, how on earth he'd get Alex back to the car. The whistle of another train that was leaving soon sounded and Alex stopped for a moment, clapping. Grissom jumped on the opportunity and yelled his name; knowing that though Alex probably wouldn't hear him, the people around him would and they might prevent him from moving further.

It was a rotating door that slowed him, and as Grissom approached he called Alex's name a few more times, wary of just grabbing him because that would either make Alex run or start screaming and kicking. Offering the train engine still in his hand, Grissom breathed a very small sign of relief that Alex seemed to be slightly interested in it. Grissom was edgy, would Alex decide to trust him and follow him? He was barely aware of the other people in the station now, the ones who probably thought that something was quite amiss with his parenting skills. But then, Grissom didn't care to explain to everyone why he couldn't calm Alex down, especially not when between claps he seemed to have a small hold on Alexander's attention.

After Grissom stood worriedly for a minute, very close to the doors leading right out to the platform, Alex decided to take the train from Grissom. This was only offered if Alex took Grissom's hand as well, and so they slowly made their way back to the car. Alex hummed the entire way back, his whoops less frequent and a little quieter. Grissom was relieved to see his supervisor standing with the car, who had returned to stand by the abandoned and unlocked car after noticing Alex take flight.

"Thanks," Grissom mumbled with a small smile as he helped Alex back into the front seat. He clicked the seatbelt firmly and locked the door before closing it, making a note to himself to check when he got back home if his backseat doors had the child lock on them.

Grissom waved a goodbye as his supervisor took off running for the platform, not late, but not wanting to be last in line to board.

The rest of the ride to Sara's house was much less eventful: Alex didn't try to leave the car again, though Grissom's hand hovered above the automatic lock button for most of the trip anyway. Instead he sat in his seat, rocking back and forth while he hummed, laughing once in a while. Grissom found that rather than calming down, his mind instead was becoming more active, thinking of what could have happened had Alex reached the platform, and the disaster that could have resulted. Alex clapped loudly again and Grissom jumped, hitting the all lock button. He glanced at the smiling boy beside him, who seemed to be quite pleased, and realized that he didn't trust himself enough to watch over an eight year old.

* * *

Rose was puttering around in the garden when they pulled in and noticed the bizarre mood as soon as the car doors opened and Alex hollered. Grissom looked a little unsettled as he got out the car, but Alex seemed to be quite happy as he ambled up the porch stairs, knocked on the door eight times, and then entered.

"You didn't give him any diet pop, did you? The aspartame sets him off."

"No," Grissom shook his head. "Is Sara home?"

"Yes, cooking dinner." Rose decided not to prod further and instead watched him shuffle inside after her grandson, something weighing on his mind.

* * *

The kitchen smelled of spices and pasta cooking, Sara swaying a little to music being softly played on the radio.

"Hey Griss! We're having pasta, you staying for dinner?" Jovial and light toned; Sara was in a good mood and looking forward to the weekend. Before Grissom could answer they heard the sound of the toilet flushing, tap running, and then Alex walked into the room to sit at the table.

"No thanks," Grissom answered, his tone out of place with hers. They watched Alex get his train schedule book out and flip through it rapidly, mumbling to himself and rocking back and forth on the chair.

"Uh…what happened today?" Sara asked, pointing her ladle at her son.

"I had to drop my boss off at the train station…" Grissom trailed off, feeling a little guilty for taking Alex there, like he should have known what would have happened.

But Sara didn't seem to be too annoyed, as she only sighed. "He over-stimulated."

"You could say that," Grissom admitted, still speaking softly. "He ran out of the car and towards the station, trying to get to the platform. I didn't realize he could run that fast."

"He doesn't, normally. He's not an exit-seeker, and he normally moves pretty slowly." She continued stirring the pot of spaghetti sauce, noticing how quiet Grissom was. "But it happens Griss, and Alex didn't get hurt."

"No, he didn't." Alex finished his book and flipped it over, turning through the pages again. "I can't drive Alex home from camp next week."

"Because of today? It doesn't happen often Grissom, you know that."

"I know. But I can't be responsible for him solely, when I don't trust myself to be."

And Grissom left it at that, not wanting to add further because he felt he'd explained himself sufficiently. Sara was a little frustrated, because she at first thought Grissom was being rather childish, acting as if his tail was between his legs. But she could remember the fear from not being control of the situation when something similar had happened to her, and then being nervous of it happening again. His reluctance was justified, though she thought he would have been more open to the solution of not running away from the so-called problem.

"So this means you'll disappear for a week?" she asked, voice laced with a small amount of accusation.

* * *

Rose came inside as Grissom sulked out, moody and staring at his shoes. He mumbled a bye to Rose before getting into his car and pulling out of the driveway. She entered the kitchen and surveyed the scene.

"What's wrong with grumpy?"

Sara still stood at the stove, test tasting her creation.

"Grissom or Alex?"

"Grissom. He looks like he just got caught doing something bad."

Sara chuckled softly, shaking her head.

"He's distancing himself for a while. His choice."

"And you're okay with that?" Rose asked gently, setting the table and telling Alex to put his schedules away so he could help make salad.

"I'm not dating him." Sara replied evenly, letting Rose know that she didn't wish to talk about it. She served the dinner onto plates and brought them to the table, mussing up Alexander's hair before sitting down.

"Alex comes first, always."

* * *

A/N 2: An exit-seeker is one who is constantly looking to leave, seeking to escape, but not necessarily because they hate what they're currently doing. Also, I tried to explain this chapter well, however I am not completely pleased with it. This was my best description of Alex and his reaction that I could write. 


	7. Chapter 7

Of Decades and Train Whistles.

A/N: So sorry this took longer in updating.

* * *

"Damnit!" Rose's ear perked up at Sara's exclamation, though she made no effort to inquire at the cause of it. Sara had been quietly sulking for a few days now, though she was reluctant to admit to herself the reason why.

She missed Grissom.

There, she'd said it. Sara waltzed from corner to corner of her room; her brain telling her that missing Grissom had put her in this mood. She wasn't depressed or let down, Sara found that she was more pissed off than anything. She refused to go through getting over Grissom again, and picked up her phone more than once to dial his number.

"Shit," she paused, before clicking off the phone and tossing it to her bed. Sara felt like a thirteen year old with an uncontrollable crush.

"Shit."

Sara's eyebrow raised and she blushed a little, not realizing her son had been standing in the doorway.

"Alex, don't repeat that, please." She turned to smile at him, knowing that he was random in his choice of phrases that he repeated anyway. Flipping on her cd player she grabbed a still Alex and swung with him to the music. He only stared at her for a minute, before she tickled him and he started to giggle.

* * *

Grissom scrunched his face up in the mirror of the flip down sun-visor in his car. He knew it was August, but the bright sun annoyed him anyway. Campus was becoming busier with students, and the camp that Alex was at was in its last week. He hadn't seen Sara in over a week, and he'd grown accustomed to her company again, finding that he rather enjoyed it. And though it felt like punishment, Grissom remembered that he'd been the one to back off in the first place.

As he walked towards his building from the car he found himself taking a detour, his thoughts distracting him and his body working on autopilot. Instead of walking through the doors to his wing, Grissom walked into the building where Alexander was at camp. Since it was lunchtime, most of the kids were chattering to themselves and making a mess, whereas Grissom spotted Alex sitting off by himself, taking apart his sandwich and eating one element of it at a time. The worker wasn't with Alex though, and Grissom stepped into the room instinctively to find her.

Alex heard Grissom's voice as he spoke to the counselors, and rose to go see him. Grissom's keys hung off his belt on a retractable key chain, and Alex pulled the keys out, letting them slip back to Grissom's hip.

"Griss-om."

Alex's focus was on something over Grissom's shoulder, but he kept playing with the keys.

"Hi Alex."

"Griss-om." Griss smiled as he took Alexander's hand and guided him back to where he'd been sitting, talking to him and getting him to eat more lunch. Grissom didn't speak too much, though he found he enjoyed sitting with Alex because neither had the urge to fill in the silence. They shared a box of animal crackers, and as the counselors started to round up the kids for the afternoon activities, Grissom realized that he should probably get going as well. He said goodbye to Alex's aide and then to Alex, who responded with a random comment.

"Oh how I want to break free."

Both aide and Grissom paused for a second, before the image of Sara dancing and singing into a hairbrush flashed before Grissom's eyes, causing him to smirk. He tore a page from the event journal in Alexander's knapsack and scribbled something on it.

"Your mother has been listening to Queen." Grissom stated to Alex, who was studying him as Grissom folded the note neatly and tucked it into Alex's lunch bag. The room's noise faded behind him as Grissom smiled at Alex, ready to say goodbye. Alex seemed to be quite aware of Grissom's presence, but after a minute he spoke again.

"Baby."

* * *

Rose picked Alex up from camp that afternoon, and when they got home she got him to help unpack all the groceries in the kitchen. They steered clear of Sara, who was sitting at the table and pouring over paperwork, in preparation of sending Alex off to his new class in a week. She'd take him there in a few days, to let him explore the classroom on his own terms. Conflicting thoughts were interrupted however as Rose tossed a folded note Sara's way.

"I assume this is for you," Rose pouted, in a tone meant to tease.

Rolling her eyes playfully, Sara unfurled the paper and read the three words aloud.

"We'll cook tomorrow."

"We?" Rose squinted, "Him and Alex? What can they cook?"

"Rose. Be nice" Sara replied, smiling regardless. "Dinner, I think.." she continued, before scrunching up her face. "Ugh. I didn't want Alex ever learning how to properly prepare bugs."

Rose dropped the spoon from the egg salad sandwich spread she was making back into the mixing bowl, and looked at Sara inquisitively.

"There's a proper way?"

* * *

As it turned out, Grissom could make a pretty good stir-fry. Alex helped with the washing of the ingredients, and setting the table. They ate at Grissom's condo, a place that all three felt comfortable in, Sara because she was in company she enjoyed, and Alex because it was his style, Sara thought. Minimalist, with all the little knick-knacks in their own proper place.

After dinner Alex was sat on the couch with a new video on trains that Sara had bought him, leaving Sara and Grissom a little time to converse. They danced around with light topics at first, the coffee mugs filled with steamy liquid twice before Sara's curiosity peaked.

"Why'd you run?"

"I didn't run," Grissom countered, quite sure of himself. Sara only sighed.

"Back off, disappear, saunter slowly away. Semantics, Gris."

He was quiet for a minute, favouring a sip of coffee over answering immediately. Train whistles sounded from the video in the living room, followed by Alex's quiet echoing of them.

"When we were at the train station, I became very uncomfortable being the one with sole responsibility of Alexander while there."

Sara put down her coffee mug, a little annoyed. "So Alex got a little excited, and scared you off."

"Sara," Gris leaned in a little over the table, "this is a new situation for me. I've read many books on autism, but first hand is always different, you know that. I've never raised an autistic child before."

It took a second for Grissom's words to sink in, and Grissom's blush complimented Sara's half smirk, half grin. "You know what I mean."

* * *

The rest of the night passed slowly, which Sara enjoyed immensely. She noted that hers and Alex's birthday cards to Grissom were the only ones on display, and for a moment she wondered if they were the only ones to give him anything. Sara inspected the corkboard over Grissom's desk that they were pinned to as Grissom turned off the TV, Alex long having fallen asleep. One scrap of paper caught her attention, and she threw Grissom an amused look.

"Whereas meteors shoot across the sky like demented fireflies, a comet moves with the stately grace of a great ship at sea, its motion hardly apparent." Upon hearing her read the quote out, Grissom perked up and smiled. Noting his reaction, Sara shook her head.

"I don't want to know, do I?"

"It's a quote," Grissom explained, opening the patio door so they could sit out on the balcony. "I think it describes human life, and how most of us are meteors, wishing we could be as graceful as the comets, be at peace, an understanding with ourselves and the world."

But Sara only raised her eyebrow at him; after years of working with Grissom and now in this past year getting to know him again, she knew he sometimes was a little too philosophical.

"It sounds like a textbook explanation of the flight paths of meteors and comets."

"Well, it's from an Earth Sciences textbook." Grissom admitted sheepishly.

Sara only laughed, very glad that she'd come out to Grissom's for dinner. She was quite enjoying herself, and the worry that he might not be had passed during their after dinner coffee. But as it was getting late, she didn't wish to stay too much longer. Alex was carried to the car around midnight, and Sara didn't bother saying goodnight. Her 'I'll see you tomorrow?" was answered with a yes, which was a good night for her, indeed.

* * *

A/N 2 : An event journal is a little notebook that's sent along (in this case, to camp with Alex) to document how the day went. Events such as tantrums, fits, accomplishments, seizures, etc. are written down in the journal, so that parents can read it when they get home and see how the day went. It's not actually called an event journal, but it's one of those 'use them all the time, never know the name' things. At the moment I have no idea what they're really called. 


	8. Chapter 8

Of Decades and Train Whistles Ch 8.

A/N: A big fat thanks to everyone who is reading this. Hope you're enjoying the ride.

* * *

What had seemed like a good idea at the time had turned into a slightly bad day, leaving Alex a little worse for wear and Sara with another doctor to avoid. She, Alex, and Grissom had headed off in the car to Twin Falls State Park, which was east of Seattle and along the interstate. Sara couldn't quite remember how she'd convinced Grissom to go along; it had, however, involved the mention of left over birthday cake from her birthday, and he seemed to have just materialized before they'd left.

It was a sunny Saturday in mid September, the warm summer weather seemingly holding strong just a tiny bit longer, leaving the three of them comfortable enough to wander around the park for most of the afternoon, enjoying a nice picnic as well. Grissom had brought a small magnifying glass, with which he studied some butterflies that happened to cross his path, while Sara sat quietly and watched Alex play.

There was an old playground near where they'd stopped for lunch, which was in use by quite a few children and attracted Alex with two rocking horses that it had, each sitting on a large spring that was buried beneath the sand of the playground. Slowly he rocked on one, back and forth, the speed of his rhythm never varying. They let him play for a good half hour, before Grissom rose to go get him. After being called a few times Alex slowed the horse down and, though quite reluctant, listened to Grissom and got off the horse. However, because Alexander's balance was not the smoothest, his leg dragged along a wayward piece of broken metal on the bottom edge, cutting him. Grissom winced and leaped to pull Alex away, who was nonchalant and seemed to barely notice.

Sara noticed something was wrong though, as Grissom carried a frustrated Alex back to where they'd been sitting. He wanted to walk, and wasn't impressed with Grissom. When she saw the blood however, Sara immediately clamped Alexander's extra sweatshirt on it, and searched around for a first aid station. The picnic stuff was packed in record time, and they loaded into the car to get Alex looked at.

* * *

The clinic was small, and had a rather country feel to it, but Grissom figured that Alex only needed a couple of stitches, and this would do until they got back to Seattle. He sat quietly in the waiting room, reading one of the outdated medical journals that had been left out, when he heard Alex cry. This wasn't an altogether normal Alex sound, and so Grissom put the journal down and started to walk down the hall, past the empty secretary's desk. The room with Alex and Sara wasn't far, and the door was open. He could see her standing defensively over her son, and the doctor looking puzzled to her reaction. Alex was lying on the table, upset and making noise.

As he entered, Grissom could see that the instruments had been laid out, the wound prepped, and the first stitch started. What Grissom could not see, however, was any sort of numbing agency.

"Oh no, dear. He can't feel it. He doesn't know what's happening."

"He's crying! My son is in pain and you're telling me that he has no idea as to what's going on?"

At this point it was almost possible to see the steam escaping from Sara's ears. She had apparently not realized that the doctor planned to do this without giving Alex anything for the pain.

"But he doesn't." The doctor tried to explain, his voice an attempt to calm her down. To Grissom it appeared that it had been a while since the doc had had such an irate mother in his office. "He's retarded. He can't feel the stitches." It had also been a while since the doctor had checked in with reality, Sara thought.

Grissom winced, though kept his mouth shut. Sara was seething, and it was her place to rebut, not his.

"Take your hands off my son, you backwards country quack." Sara hissed, moving towards the doctor.

"Sara." Grissom warned, his vision temporarily clouded by the strong feeling of déjà vu. The tense feelings in the room didn't subside, but the talking did. Grissom placed Sara in the seat right next to the bed Alex was laying on, and spoke with the doctor. They weren't exactly in a place they could argue, and Grissom wanted to see Alex attended to swiftly, so they could leave faster.

Words were exchanged again and the doctor agreed to give Alex some local anesthetic, before restarting the stitches. Sara wanted to take Alex to another hospital, but since they were already there Grissom convinced her to stay. Once the shot had kicked in, Alex calmed down and recited the alphabet to Sara as the doctor finished. He still whimpered once in a while, but seemed to be feeling more like himself.

Twenty minutes later, Grissom helped a slightly limping Alex out of the office and to the car as Sara filled out forms and got the secretary to photocopy the records for Alexander's regular doctor. She came outside to find Griss kneeling down in front of Alex, who was sitting in the back seat of the car with the door open. They'd found some train stickers in Alex's backpack, and were decorating the new bandage.

* * *

The drive home was relatively quiet, Grissom was nice enough to drive as Sara was still rather annoyed and thus her concentration was focused elsewhere. She conversed with him for part of the trip though, as Alex sat in the back seat, daydreaming and partially sleeping.

"Have you always been this hostile towards doctors?" Grissom's question was a simple one, meant to disarm her.

It worked, and after a pause Sara grinned with a slight blush.

"I can be stubborn, I suppose. But you have to admit, he was out of line."

"Yes." Grissom whole-heartedly agreed with Sara, but that didn't completely justify her outburst. "Calling him a quack though, was perhaps a little too much."

The next two miles were driven in silence, Sara not particularly in favour of a lecture, and Grissom not wanting to give one either. The peace was broken however, by a little half laugh from Sara.

"I called his principal a drug pusher once."

Grissom's raised eyebrow portrayed a mixture of disproval and curiosity, the look in his eyes willing her to continue.

"Michael died when Alex was four, the summer right before he was set to start school. A regular class, but Alex was to have a one-on-one aide with him the entire day. But with Michael gone, I needed someone to look after him while I was at work, and life became hectic. Alex didn't know how to handle it, so he became a handful, hooting, hollering, and spinning himself, just anything to get his confusion and frustration out. Not three weeks after he started school, the teacher and principal called me in to discuss their diagnosis of him as having ADHD, and that he needed to be on medication because he was disrupting the class."

Grissom, ever the logical thinker, pointed out the faults he could see.

"How can a teacher and a principal diagnose ADHD?"

"They can't." Sara answered, shaking her head. "Not without a doctor's official word. But they were convinced, and insisted I take Alex to the doctor, have him diagnosed, and put on Ritalin for his hyperactivity."

Grissom glanced in the rearview mirror to catch a glimpse of Alex, head nodding as he fell asleep.

"Did you follow their recommendation?"

"No." Grissom knew Sara to be a very intellectual woman, and that for her to make a decision about her son, especially regarding something this serious, he knew that she would be well informed on the matter. "I was in the middle of moving to a new house, bringing Rose in to live with us, and trying to figure out how I could best work my job and spend time with Alex. I also figured that most of the hyperactivity was caused by Alex not adjusting yet."

Grissom nodded in understanding.

"After moving to the new house, I made arrangements for Alex to see new therapists, both behavioral and speech. The same ones he goes to now, actually. But before he'd even been with them for a week, the school called back, told me that Alex was still being disruptive in their precious learning environment. They said that if he did not take medication to control his behaviour, they wouldn't allow him to go to school, and would have child services investigate me for medical neglect."

Sara received an incredulous look from Grissom at this, who was desperately trying to keep all of this information straight in order to understand everything.

"This was the first week of December. We'd moved into this house, and I was trying to find another school for Alex to attend, because I definitely didn't want him at a place with a principal like that. He's on a few medications, but I refuse to give him something to turn him into a zombie, for the sake of controlled behavior for a teacher."

"Did having Rose around help him at all?" Sara seemed to be in a talking mood, and so Grissom felt more comfortable asking questions.

"Very much so." Sara nodded, digging into her bag for a stick of gum. "Not only was she there to watch him while I was at work, but she also took him to therapy appointments that I couldn't make. They also have really helped him."

"So you trust some doctors." Grissom stated, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smile, as he wondered if she'd catch that technically he also held the status of doctor.

"Of course." Sara smiled, remembering how it had been Alexander's therapist who'd pulled strings and got him into another school.

"Did it take Alex long to adjust to living with just you and Rose?" Grissom inquired, curious about the past that she rarely brought up.

"He had nightmares, missing his dad I guess. For a two-week stretch I spent every night sleeping on a mattress on his floor. I wanted him to get used to his new room, but was there when he woke up crying. He gradually grew out of it though, and liked his new class much better. The tantrums became infrequent, and I think he finally realized that Michael wasn't coming back."

Her voice grew soft as she finished, and Grissom could plainly hear the sadness intoned in it. Sara never spoke of what it was like to lose Michael.

"Did you?" he asked quietly, not expecting an answer and feeling sympathetic for the woman sitting beside him, who had been so focused on healing her son that she had never taken the time to heal herself.

* * *

It took about two weeks for Alexander's leg to heal nicely, to the point where Sara didn't find herself worrying that he'd split the cut open again while playing. She still had to keep him bandaged though, because Alex had a bad habit of picking his scabs. It was something he'd done since he was a toddler, and something she'd not yet been successful in getting him to stop. Sara watched him contentedly as he walked around the kitchen table, running his trains. He could have been hurt much worse, and she felt lucky.

She and Rose were standing at the kitchen counter, sharing a cup of coffee and discussing what to do for Alexander's birthday, which was only a few days away. Sara couldn't believe that October had already arrived.

Sara had vetoed the idea of a large party, but thought that a get-together with a few of Alexander's classmates might be fun for him. Chuck E. Cheese's, with it's bright flashing lights and mass of constantly beeping games was out of the question, though a quieter restaurant could work.

"What kind of restaurant did Grissom suggest?" Rose offered, sneaking a small cookie with her coffee.

"He didn't, actually, come to think of it." Sara stared at some spot invisible to Rose on the floor, holding her mug to her chin and inhaling the aroma.

"You didn't ask him, did you?" Rose chuckled, cluing in.

Sara blushed as she shook her head and mumbled into her coffee.

"I'm used to him just being there."


	9. Chapter 9

Of Decades and Train Whistles

A/N: Sorry it took so long for this last chapter. Life did get in the way, but mostly, I'm just lazy. Hope you've enjoyed it, and thanks for the comments and questions.

* * *

"Happy birthday dear Alex…..happy birthday to youuuu!"

October fifth fell on a Thursday and so Alex found himself surrounded by some of his classmates and family for lunch on the following Sunday, when it would be easier for all to attend. They went to a buffet that was quieter than usual, and the birthday boy enjoyed eight bite sized brownies for his cake, because he didn't normally eat dessert and wasn't really a fan of cake anyway. Grissom and Rose were amused by all the train toys Alex received, and Sara was quietly moping that this was his last single digit birthday.

After getting hyper from the party and the singing, Sara brought Alex home and Grissom helped pack him up to spend the next two nights at respite. She'd told him the official name of the place before, but it was essentially a residence where Alex could go for a few nights to have some fun away from home in a supervised environment, and Sara and Rose could have a little break of their own. Grissom thought it was a great idea, and he could tell that though she loved her son, and might have felt a little guilty for sending him off, Sara enjoyed the break too.

* * *

Sara took the two days off of work and spent part of them cleaning house, going through old stacks of paper and such to purge things. Alex had a lot of paperwork; whether it was bills concerning his therapy, test results, papers needed for school, or just things that he created. And though Sara had finally gotten him to put all his papers away neatly, they all just got thrown into a basket on his desk. Once in a while Sara found the time to sort through them.

Somehow a train engine had fallen into the basket along with Alexander's papers, and Sara drew it out, to be placed on the bookshelf with all the other ones. She recognized this engine as the one Grissom had left for Alex when he'd first come to visit, a year ago. It didn't seem like that long ago, but for the level of friendship they now shared, it felt too short a time. They were a lot closer than they'd ever been while working together in Vegas, and though the twelve-year drift wasn't idealistic, it seemed to have just strengthened their relationship. No longer working together, having experienced life with other people, and no pressure to become a couple were all factors that Sara begrudgingly admitted to herself as being major reasons for their level of intimacy now.

Grissom called while Sara was in the middle of cleaning, but she didn't invite him over. The respite wasn't just for Alex, and Grissom seemed to understand that too. Instead, he merely spoke to her about what was going on at work, and then let her go. He'd gotten to the stage where he missed her if they weren't in contact daily, whether seeing her in person or just talking on the phone. He continually lied to himself by saying she was just a friend, though he was aware of the mistruth.

* * *

All three went to pick Alex up from respite, because Grissom's car was in the shop for an oil change and he'd needed a ride home from work. Rose was there because she was curious to see the new respite building, and Sara was glad to see that Alex had missed her. His smile was huge as she hugged him, and the clapping with some short whoops let her know that Alexander had had a great time. He jabbered in gibberish while walking around and in the car, before falling asleep halfway home, leaning against Grissom.

Once they arrived to the house, Rose hurried in for the washroom, muttering that she'd had too much tea, and Sara unlocked the door to hear the phone ringing. Grissom didn't want to wait, and so carefully picked Alex up with him out of the car and carried him inside. He helped a half awake Alex into his pajamas, and then put him to bed. Sara would be up later with Alexander's medicine, but the boy could nap for now.

Griss found Sara and Rose in the kitchen, discussing the new aide in Alex's class who was the spitting image of George Clooney. Rose was impressed, and was considering volunteering in the class just for the eye candy. Sara was amused, though she informed Rose that not many older men did things for her. The twinkle in her eye drew Grissom's gaze as he grinned. Instead of teasing though, Grissom merely asked how many older men she did approve of. Sara retorted that she'd have to get back to Grissom, and then went to search in the freezer for something to eat for dinner. Rose left them in order to watch Coronation Street on TV, a show she didn't like to admit she was addicted to.

Pulling out frozen vegetarian lasagna, Sara then opened the fridge and offered Grissom a beer and poured some cheetos in a bowl. She didn't know if Grissom wanted any, but her growling stomach did. In the background they could hear Emily Bishop talking on the TV,

"You know, Rose has strongly hinted to me that I should ask you out." Grissom stated, sipping his beer as he watched Sara fix a snack and then sit down at the table across from him.

"On a date?" Sara paused, flashing him a grin. "But you don't know how to do that."

"Yeah." Grissom agreed, nodding his head upward. "And besides, we'd be boring. Come home too early." He stole some cheetos and smiled, enjoying this little banter.

"And the sex…" Sara laughed instead of continuing, choosing not to jest about something he might be a little too sensitive about. Grissom's raised eyebrow confirmed that she'd chosen wisely.

"We're really just not the right two people to go out."

Sara nodded in agreement, and they sat quietly for a moment, looking out into Sara's backyard and the approaching night.

"You gonna stick around later?" She asked softly, sipping more beer.

"Yeah," Grissom replied, his words not rushed by anything. "I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

The end. 


End file.
